Only If For A Night
by EvidenceOfMe
Summary: After Doyle, she thought it was over. That she could live her life once again. That is until another case told her that it wasn't. After being injured by an UnSub who killed and tortured women, Prentiss must go back and stop yet another man from doing it all again. Facing her shadows once again, will she be able to come out alive, or will she be left broken and alone?
1. Chapter 1

****Hello! Haven't been in the writing game for a while but slowly working my way back in. This story has been in progress for a while now and I have a few chapters already written so I decided to bite the bullet and post it! Not sure if it's any good, but if you write and never let anyone read it, then what's the point of writing?

Spoilers for basically anything that has aired. This takes place after Prentiss returns after the whole Doyle extravaganza but before she leaves. All spelling and grammar mistakes are my own and I apologize. Also word of warning, I'm not the best with the whole "case" aspect of stories, so it it seems weird or unrealistic, sorry!

If you have any ideas or opinions just let me know and if I dig em, I shall write them in! Enough babble and on with the reading! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer - I own nothing!

**Chapter One**

_Going Back _

_The knife sliced into her skin._

_Smooth._

_Clean._

_Quick._

_In a flash she was thrown against the ally wall with the force of the man pushing the blade into her body; her head collided with the brick behind her with a resonating crack. Her eyes blurred with the sudden onset of intense pain._

_The hand that had thrust the intruding object into her shoulder quickly pulled the bloody knife out and in just mere seconds, three bullets entered his body and he crumbled to the ground at her feet._

_Breathing heavy, she lowered the gun and let it fall to the ground, clattering in the sudden silence. Eyes squinting in pain, she slowly slid down as her legs could no longer hold her weight._

_Her hands were soaked in her own blood as she blindly fumbled to apply pressure to the fresh wound as a smell of iron filled her lungs. Each breathe in sent waves of radiating pain throughout her body; she struggled against the dark grip of unconsciousness that was threatening to engulf her._

_A strong hand was on her shoulder and she let her own weak arms fall to the side as he began applying pressure to the gash that steadily seeped blood. As he pressed down a new intense wave of pain echoed through her and she couldn't help the broken and cracked moan that escaped from her lips._

_Even as her eye sight blurred, she could feel the presence of another person next to her as the two of them exchanged words that sounded foreign to her ears. Then suddenly she was being moved so she lay flat on her back against the gritty pavement._

_They were talking to her and she desperately wanted to respond but it seemed that no words would form behind her dry lips. Taking fresh air into her lungs was becoming difficult enough, let alone getting enough air to speak._

_A warm hand brushed her cheek and she desperately wanted to let go; slip away into unconsciousness, but she knew she had to fight. She had to fight the unconsciousness; the want to give in._

_This wasn't going to happen again._

_ "Just hold on."_

_The words broke through the haze of fog that had begun to cover her mind. She knew that voice, and she longed to see the face that it belonged too._

_She struggled to open her eyes; to see the light of day instead of the darkness that held her captive._

_"Just hold on, Princess, hold on."_

_She clung to the words like her life depended on them, and in some reality her life really did. But her weak body could no longer fight the clutches of darkness that were pulling her deeper into unconsciousness, and she slipped, feeling like she was falling into an empty abyss until all she saw was black._

* * *

Five weeks had passed and the scar was almost healed. It still hurt like hell at times, but it didn't look as horrible as it had the first few weeks of her recovery. The two inch gash on the back of her head had also healed; the only evidence of it now was the dull throbbing that pounded in her head every so often. But that she could deal with.

She had even survived the first few days back on the job, although still confined to desk duty. Part of her couldn't complain; she wasn't sure if she was ready to return to the dark and gruesome world they so often lived in; flying to remote places and spending sleepless hours reading over heavily detailed case files was not something that sounded the most appealing to her still somewhat fragile body.

Somehow seeing things on a computer screen in the comfort of Garcia's lair made it easier for her to cope and detach, separating her from fine line of being good at the job and from becoming just another jaded agent, spiraling into a burn out. It was like a little holiday, without the escape but still the distance.

A larger part of her craved the rush again; the familiar feel of a Kevlar vest, the cold metal of a gun in her hand, trigger finger at the ready, boots pounding pavement in hot pursuit of an UnSub.

She had to keep telling herself that her job wasn't going anywhere and neither were the murderers and rapists that they hunted. And every time her body ached with the, what was now an all too familiar, twinge of pain, told her that recovery time was still very much needed.

But as she heard her name called from across the bullpen, she had a mixed feeling of excitement and dread that her recovery time would be cut short. The way his voice held a hint of authority and sharpness, she knew they had a case and it wasn't good.

She closed the door of his office and turned to face him. She saw the tiredness in his eyes and paleness of his cheeks; he looked as bad as she felt. After her time away from work, his sullen appearance seemed more evident to her than it ever had before.

"Take a seat."

She was concerned by his abruptness; since the incident he had been much more soft spoken and polite. "Is everything okay?"

"You're wound is healing nicely?"

Annoyance flashed through her but she quickly buried it before it rose to the surface; of course he wasn't going to answer her. "Yes. The doctor said I'll be fit to return to field duty in a week or two."

"And do you agree with him? That you need two weeks?"

"Hotch, would you just tell me what in the hell is going on."

She watched as his shoulders slumped ever so slightly, like he was realizing his evasive behavior. "I'm sorry."

Satisfied that that was all she was going to get, she spoke again. "If I had to return to field work now, I would be ready for it."

He raised an eyebrow, as if gauging the amount of truth that she spoke. "Then I will send a note and override the doctor's decision. I need you on this case."

Feeling a surge of adrenaline and excitement run through her body at the thought of returning quickly faded at his next words.

"Emily, the man who stabbed you has a partner." This time his voice was soft, almost compassionate. "A body was found and another woman is missing in Idaho. We're going back."

* * *

The faster you review, the fast I will update! =) Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

******Hello again! Wow! So happy with the reviews that I got on the first chapter! Makes me super happy! haha So thank you to all those who reviewed, put it on alert, or already added it to favorites! This chapter I switch from Emily's POV to just, well regular writing I guess. I will be doing that throughout the story because somethings that I want to get across are much better told from her view. Hope you enjoy! I will try and get another chapter posted later this week!**

**Chapter Two**

_The Partner in the Details_

* * *

We were the first two in the conference room and I could feel his eyes on me; in fact they hadn't left me since we'd gone from his office together. I tried to keep my cool and not let the growing tension inside me show on the surface.

To any normal person, I'd appear fine, as if it were just another day. But I did not work with normal people; I worked with a team of trained behavioral specialists that took the phrase 'the devils in the details' to a whole new level.

We took details and the slightest of behaviors and hashed them up into even more minute details. And then we formed them all together to create a profile.

So I knew he could see it; the way I couldn't stop the nervousness of my hands as I picked at another nail, the way I kept biting my lip every time I looked at him. To him, and soon to the rest of the team as well, these tiny gestures would be like billboard signs that something was off.

"Emily, if you feel you aren't up for the case, I understand. But…" Hotch searched for the right words. I could tell by the way he stopped talking, the short intake of breathe.

"But, if this UnSub is anything like his partner, he may already know about me, and by being on the case I could throw him off his game."

"And if he is off his game, we can catch him faster."

"This isn't my first rodeo, Hotch. I know how this game works." Maybe my words were harsher than needed, but I knew he would understand and wouldn't take it personally.

After all, considering he just basically just told me I would be on the case as, for lack of a better word, bait, I do believe I handled it well, considering the circumstances.

When my thoughts stopped swirling, I lifted my head to meet his gaze. "You're sure you're okay with this? I want the truth."

I bit my lip and looked at my raw, teeth bitten nails, God I needed to stop that. "Am I sure? Hell no. Would I say no...Not a chance."

I watched as a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. My word choice wasn't exactly professional, but he knew that was the truth; that that was what he had asked for.

* * *

"There's a partner?" Morgan's words expressed the look on every ones face as they sat around the conference room.

"This guy must be good. He waited over a month after Chandler's death before he struck again, and knew enough to not cross our paths when we were there." JJ looked at the pictures on the screen; a woman lay on gray pavement, badly beaten with gunshot wound to the chest, her eyes still open but no longer holding the look of life.

"But what if he did cross our path? He could have been part of the investigation and we may not have known."

"Reid, come on? A room full of profilers and we didn't notice?" Morgan raised his eyebrows.

Prentiss looked up; speaking for the first time since they had announced to the team what was going on. "Not necessarily. We didn't even factor in a possibility of a partner, why would we even have been looking for one?"

Rossi looked quizzically at the file in his hands. "What if this guy isn't a partner? Both Reid and Morgan are right; you'd think we would have seen something and that he would have put himself into the investigation."

"What are you saying?" Hotch asked.

"Maybe he didn't decide to do these killings till just recently. He may not have even had contact with Chandler before; why not consider a copycat?"

Reid looked up, his thoughts turning, "Yeah but a copycat wouldn't know all of these details. How the gunshot wound is exactly in the middle of the chest just below the rib cage, how each woman was posed after death with her hands directly at her sides. Those details weren't released to the press."

Garcia shook her head, "So not a copycat and not a partner. Then who is he?"

Prentiss looked up at the screen; the twenty-something brunette woman stared back her. A smiling happy picture next to it, making the picture of her cold and lifeless body all the more gruesome and real. "He's family."

"That would explain how he knew details we didn't release. But we only talked to Chandler's dad. All other close family is deceased." Morgan said.

"Back up there, baby cakes, there was a brief period that Chandler spent in foster care, just after his mother died. Could he have bonded with someone there?" Garcia pulled up the foster care information on the screen behind her as she spoke.

Rossi nodded. "Even if he did inject himself to the case we wouldn't have known; completely different last name and why would we have thought to look into a time when he was 12 years old and in a group home. We had no reason."

"We do now. Wheels up in twenty." Hotch rose to his feet but caught Prentiss' eye as he did. She nodded in answer to his unspoken question.

All she needed to do was say the word when and if it all became too much. After everything with Doyle, Hotch had watched out for her. Not watching like he waiting for her to crack, but watching for when she just needed someone to talk to.

After his ordeal with Foyet, he knew a thing or two about returning to reality from the cold shadows of living in fear. He knew what it was like to be held captive by the torment of another man.

Sadly, he knew it all too well.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! Thank! :) **


	3. Chapter 3

******So I am very sad that the last chapter didn't get any reviews! :( But it did get more alerts, so that is a good thing! Please let me know what you think of this chapter! I have one more week before I start school again so I will not be able to update a whole lot but the plan is once a week. Enjoy.**

**Chapter Three**

_Dwelling on Misfortunes of the Past_

* * *

Emily picked up the coffee pot to pour herself a cup of the steaming liquid before the jet took off. But as she began to tilt the pot, a blazing pain shot through her arm and she cursed under her breath as coffee spilled on the small counter and she slammed the coffee pot down.

JJ was at her side in a second. "Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Prentiss muttered as she quickly cleaned up the coffee.

"It's your shoulder, isn't it?"

Prentiss tried to hide a grimace as she curled her fingers round the handle of the mug, which was only half full of coffee, tightening her muscles and hoping the pain would ease. "It'll be fine in a minute."

"You're not cleared for duty are you?" JJ asked, lowering her voice.

"Hotch is taking care of it. I'm okay, really."

"Emily, you shouldn't even be on this plane. You should be home, resting." JJ's eyes filled with concern. "We can handle this case without you. We'll nail the guy."

Prentiss looked behind JJ and saw Morgan watching their interaction closely; making no move to conceal his prying gaze. "JJ, you know I love you and yeah, I shouldn't even be on this case. But I need this."

JJ looked at her friend; her words needed no explanation. "Then promise me the minute you're shoulder hurts or if everything gets to be too much, you tell me, alright?"

"You'll be the third to know."

JJ looked at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Hotch already talked to me and Garcia lectured me before I could even get my go bag." The two women smiled at each other knowingly.

"If that's the best I'll get, then I'll take it."

* * *

My stomach churned as we descended once again into Post Falls, Idaho. I knew I shouldn't be nervous, after all I was flanked by one of the best behavior analysis teams in the world, why would there be a need to worry?

Putting aside the fact that the last man we dealt with, whom showed many similarities to the man we were now hunting, had put a knife in my shoulder, wounded another agent and killed six women brutally.

If it weren't for those 'minor' details, I would be thrilled to be back on a case. But all of those things over shadowed any excitement I had in me. This wasn't the happy return I'd hoped for.

And even though this new UnSub had no relation to me, I couldn't help but feel this was personal. He was targeting the same type of woman and executing the same malicious details in their deaths. And we had no solid evidence as to who or why.

I looked out the window of the jet, clenching my jaw tight as the pain still pounded in my shoulder. I knew it would go away soon but this time it was more intense than it had been in weeks, and it wasn't dissipating as quickly as it normally would.

I knew it was from the stress. My muscles were tight and my body longed for a good night's sleep, or at least one not plagued with vivid dreams that turned to heart pounding nightmares, leaving me waking up in a cold sweat and tangled in sheets.

I couldn't even remember my last full night of sleep.

And that was what worried me the most; more so than any lingering pain or unhealed wound. The fact that my ability to compartmentalize was slowly fading. No longer could I drown out the screams or forget the bloody images of past victims when I went home at night.

I used to be able to leave work at work, only occasionally being haunted in the safety of my own home. But since Doyle, the shadows followed me everywhere. I wouldn't call it being paranoid, just more overly cautions.

Gun always on my night stand, next to a fully charged cell phone and, in case the gun jammed, a baseball bat, all within arm's reach. Some might see it as a desperate cry for help, but I saw it as being prepared and no one could blame me for that.

I watched as we slowly broke through the clouds and the beautiful scenery of Post Falls came into clear view. It was true; looks can be deceiving.

It was a decent size town just by the border of Idaho and Washington, close to Coeur d'Alene Lake and national forest. These three factors made it almost an ideal hunting ground for serial killers. In twenty minutes, you could be in a different state; a body is much harder to find at the bottom of a fifty square mile lake; and take a hike in any direction and you could be completely cut off from civilization in a mere matter of hours.

But my mind drifted to Rathdrum, a small town twenty minutes away, where I'd come face to face with Benjamin Chandler, alone in an ally with a knife and a gun.

If I thought about it enough I could even feel the blade slicing through my skin and that memory would take me back to the wooden stake driven into my stomach, and my mind reeled with memories I wished to forget.

"'Life is thickly sown with thorns, and I know no other remedy than to pass quickly through them. The longer we dwell on misfortunes, the greater is their power to harm us.'"

Rossi's smooth voice broke through my haze of thoughts. I hadn't even realized he had taken the seat across from me. I quickly recovered from my reminiscing and let a small smile cross my lips.

"'In his bright Paradise above, to heaven again, dear Gabriel, go, my zeal for you shall still o'erflow; to the empyrean then repair; without my love I'd not go there.' François-Marie Arouet de Voltaire."

"Ah the last lines of 'Azolan.'" Rossi said, nodding his head and leaning back deeper in the seat.

I smiled. "When my mother was stationed in Rome, I convinced her to let us spend a week in Paris. That is where I learned of my love for Voltaire."

He looked me in the eye. "He's right you know."

I turned to him, becoming serious. "About what?"

"The longer we dwell on misfortunes or things of the past, the more they take control of us."

"What happened to not profiling each other?" I muttered softly, breaking eye contact. Afraid that if I kept looking into his deep brown eyes any longer that I would be crying in his arms like an emotional child who was afraid of the monsters under the bed.

Rossi leaned forward so I had no choice but to turn and face him. "I don't need to be a profiler to see what's going on with you, Emily."

I sighed and bit my lip. I knew he was right, and it just gave me more proof to the fact that I really was slipping. Soon enough I'd fall through the cracks and become another broken body, destined for a life full of haunting shadows.

"We won't let anything happen to you."

The lump in my throat rose and I took in a shaking breath, fighting of the emotions that seemed to creep up on me out of nowhere. I wasn't the type of girl to get emotional. Things bothered me, but it was never hard to keep them locked in until I was in the comfort of my own bed with the lights turned out, where I could cry myself to sleep and no one would be the wiser.

But now, sitting there, the softness of Dave's voice, the way he looked into my eyes, how I knew he meant the words he said, even when we both knew it was a promise that no one could keep; I found myself fighting to keep the tears in.

"I know…" My voice was shaky and I struggled to keep it level. "I just…It's been a bad year."

A melancholy smiled crossed his lips and he reached out and squeezed my hand. "That, my dear, would be an understatement."

He squeezed my hand once more before releasing it and settling back into his chair. I watched him as he turned and looked out the small window.

I longed for the sureness that he held in his voice. I wanted to feel it wrap it's warmth around me. But as we made our decent into Post Falls, sureness was the farthest thing from my mind.

Instead a cold wave of unrest and turmoil settled over me. And I felt my breathe hitch as the wheels touched down. Here we go again.

* * *

**Reviews are amazing! Thank you! **


	4. Chapter 4

******Hello! Glad everyone seemed to enjoy the last chapter. This one does leave you hanging a little bit! But what would a story be without some cliffhangers! And sadly, school starts up again on Monday so I may not be updating as often. On the plus side, I do still have quite a few chapters already written! Comments are more than welcome! Hope you enjoy it!**

**Chapter 4 **

_Wandering Minds and Monsters Haunting Dreams_

Prentiss listened to Reid halfheartedly as they walked into the small hotel. He was off another tangent and spouted off numerous statistics that her mind refused to focus on.

She needed sleep; plain and simple.

After landing, they had immediately started working; she, Morgan, and Rossi went to the crime scene, while Hotch, JJ, and Reid went to the small police station to set up.

It was unsettling at the crime scene; how similar it was to those of Benjamin Chandler. Her name was Anna McGregor. She was twenty-two and just returned home from college to begin what should have been the most exhilarating years of her life.

Now she was only destined to be another body in a box or ashes in a jar on mantle, or maybe to be scattered in the wind. None of her options were exactly pretty.

White dress and arms resting on her chest with a single rose resting in her hands, eyes open; cold, empty and lifeless. The dress hid the bloody wounds; the cuts, the bruises, the burn marks, not to mention the cracked and broken bones beneath the battered skin. He was care and meticulous in his torture; careful not to leave a scar or cut on her face.

It was a haunting image, but one that they had seen six times before until three bullets to the chest had put a stop to the monster.

But now it was starting all over again.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall of the elevator as the six of them rode together in an exhausted silence. Reid had at least finally taken the hint to stop talking after none of his comrades responded to his rant.

The bell chimed at the second floor and they all filed out. Hotch and Rossi took the room directly across from JJ and Prentiss, and Reid and Morgan the one just beside them.

The halls of the hotel were silent and still, but in a small town at midnight, you couldn't expect anything else.

The hot water was almost too hot as it pelted against her skin but she made no move to adjust the temperature. She stood there for a long while, letting the water stream down over her face; letting it relax her aching muscles.

By the time she returned to her bed, JJ was already fast asleep and only a small lamp on the nightstand gave light to the room. She couldn't help but smile at her sleeping friend, still holding her cell phone in one hand.

Emily suspected that JJ had intended to stay up so that they could talk, but clearly sleep had over powered her will. She delicately took the phone from her sleeping friends hand and switched off the light.

Darkness swept over the room.

She blindly found the covers and pulled them back; letting out a sigh as her head rested on the pillow. But now that sleep was finally an option, it seemed to just be on the edge of her grasp but never fully in it. Her mind reeled with the events of the past two days.

She replayed the conversation with Hotch over and over, still finding it hard to believe that he had actually allowed her to be on this case. He knew it was personal for her, even if she didn't want to believe it was.

He knew that she needed it; needed to see it through to the end. The end should have been with Chandler, but somehow it hadn't been. She just thought that the feeling would go away once she returned to the full duties of work. Now the feeling was there because it was starting all over again.

Part of her felt like she never even got full closure with the aftermath of Doyle. And that was far greater than any recent events she had endured. Doyle wasn't just a shadow of the past, he was a black out.

A time in her life that could not be forgotten or brushed under the carpet, like she felt some of it had. She had greatly and eagerly returned to work, but as Hotch had once pointed out to her, she was over compensating.

She had never fully healed just as the team had never fully recovered as a family. Trust had been shattered; it wouldn't repair instantly like they all desperately hoped for. Building trust took time.

Maybe it wouldn't be as strong as it had been before, but she hoped and believed that one day it would come close.

She breathed deep, trying to stop her mind from wandering. Her lids felt like sand paper against her tired eyes; sleep still danced around her but was never quite close enough to take.

She rubbed her eyes, not that it would make any difference, but she wanted to stop seeing images of Doyle and Chandler flash before her. Lack of sleep always played tricks on her, and she knew they weren't real, but every time she closed her eyes and started to drift into sleep, one of their faces would appear as clear as day.

Turning over she tried to find a comfortable position; her muscles protesting and unable to find peace. She reached out and blindly searched for her phone on the nightstand. The small screen blinding her as she looked at the time; it had only been an hour.

Tossing back the covers, she slid out of the bed as quietly as possible and found her bag. Popping two sleeping pills into her mouth, she swallowed them dry. They normally gave her an excruciating headache the next day and she hated taking them but she knew her body would protest even more, not to mention the state of her own sanity, if she didn't get some sleep.

Slowly the effects began to take their course; she could feel her body relax as her eyes grew heavy, finally she would be able to find peace.

* * *

She could feel his breathe against her skin; heated and slow. Feather light fingertips grazed over her arm as he whispered her name.

The scar on her shoulder burned with white hot intensity as his lips touched it in a kiss. She knew who it was, yet she still didn't want to open her eyes.

His face was inches from hers and her name dropped from his lips once again, just above a whisper. She flinched as she felt his breathe wash over her lips; he was too close. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood; she couldn't breathe with him there.

She tried turned away, still refusing to open her eyes, but her body was numb under his weight. It was becoming harder to bring air into her lungs. Then his hand laced around her neck and she was forced to open her eyes.

But now the voice didn't match the face. His greenish eyes and brown hair, she wasn't ready for it; she wasn't expecting it. He tightened his grip. "You know their dead because of you."

She tried to scream, tried to fight, but she was numb. She couldn't think straight, couldn't breathe, she couldn't even fight him; she just lay there, helpless.

Pain shot through her shoulder again, but he wasn't event touching it. Instead his face slowly became farther away from her, a sick smile on his face, just like the one that had been there when he died.

Everything was dark; all she could feel the throbbing pain. Her hand pressed against her shoulder, trying to make it stop. But then she felt hot liquid on her fingers and as she pulled her hand away she could see that it was covered in blood.

Suddenly his voice surrounded her; echoing off the nonexistent walls and coming at her from every side. "You let them die."

This time she screamed, letting out as much air as her lungs could hold; she couldn't take it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! So here is chapter five! Only one review on the last chapter makes me sad but oh well. Not sure when I will be able to update again, but hopefully next week sometime. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 5**

_Shadows in the Night_

JJ shot out of her bed the instant she heard Emily scream. She didn't care that it was the middle of the night or that she had been in the middle of an amazing dream; she honestly feared that something was truly wrong.

Her finger fumbled as she switched on the bedside lamp; she quickly knelt down by Emily's bed. "Hey, Emily, wake up. It's just a dream."

When she was still for a moment, JJ placed her hand on Emily's head but was shocked when she let out another muffled scream

"Em, come on honey. You need to wake up." She tried again, placing a hand on her shoulder. She knew from experience that waking someone from a nightmare wasn't always good, but her worry grew the longer Emily refused to wake.

There was pounding at the doorway and JJ got to her feet quickly and opened it, not bothering to see who it was; she knew the whole team had heard Emily.

Morgan stood in the doorway, gun drawn and breathing hard, Rossi and Hotch hanging back behind him and she saw a faint glimpse of Reid, still half asleep standing halfway in his own room across the hall.

"I can't get her to wake up." JJ said as she and Morgan hurried back to their friend's side.

Even thought she'd only been gone a few seconds, it already seemed that Emily had calmed, but she still wasn't awake.

"Prentiss." Morgan said forcefully and grabbed her shoulder; he knew something wasn't right.

Emily's eyes shot open and she took in a ragged breathe. Her hand immediately shot to her left shoulder, were it still ached in pain.

Suddenly she came into realization that she wasn't home alone in the comfort of her own bed, but she was in a hotel room surrounded by her concerned teammates. Her face instantly flushed with embarrassment.

"You alright there?" Morgan's voice was soft; like he was afraid he'd scare her if he spoke any louder.

She only nodded her head, not trusting her voice.

"I'll go get you something thing to drink."

Her attention went to Rossi who was standing closest to the door; he gave a sympathetic smile and then turned away. Hey eyes then fell on Hotch; his gaze was intense but also held a hint of concern.

"Try and get some sleep." Hotch said and gave a slight nod, he knew what those nightmares felt like and knew the last thing she wanted was to be interrogated by the team. "Morgan?"

Morgan let out a sharp sigh at the sound of his name. He knew he should leave, but he didn't want too, the sound of his friend's fearful cry still ringing in his ears. "You're sure you're okay?"

Trying to regain some dignity, Emily sat up in the bed, making sure she was still completely covered. "I'm okay."

He watched her a few seconds longer before following Hotch out of the room. Once the door closed behind him, the two women were trapped in an uncomfortable silence. Emily, still too embarrassed to speak and JJ had no idea what to say.

A soft knock at the door moments later saved them both from having to make the first move. As JJ went to open the door for Rossi, Emily took the opportunity to take her hair back into a messy ponytail, hoping that the redness in her cheeks had gone down.

Rossi smiled but didn't say anything as he sat at the end of her bed, handing her the cup of the steaming tea.

"Thank you." Emily said, thankful that her voice came out smooth and even.

"I figured you might need something to smooth your throat." Rossi said as he handed her a steaming cup of tea.

She graciously accepted; thankful as its warmth spread into her cold fingers and also glad that as she held it tight it masked the shakiness in her arms. Slowly taking a sip, she averted his powerful gaze.

"I'm uh gonna go grab myself a cup of coffee." JJ said, sensing that this may be a conversation that didn't need an extra set of ears.

Rossi gave a slight nod in acknowledgment but kept his gaze trained on Emily. Her eyes were blood shot and dark circled stood out against her pale skin. And even though he could tell that she tried to hide it, the trembling of her body did not go unnoticed.

Once he heard the door close, he slowly placed a hand on her knee, causing her to look up. It didn't surprise him that her eyes filled with tears, but it did make his sorrow for her bury even deeper into his heart.

Emily closed her eyes and a single tear escaped, rolling down her cheek until it fell slowly. "I couldn't make him stop."

"It's more than that, isn't it?"

She looked at him, her eyebrows pushing together in question.

"He may be the monster in your dreams, Emily, but he's not what makes you lie awake at night. "

Angrily, she brushed another tear from her cheek, ashamed that she had let her guard down so much; let herself become so exposed. She rolled her shoulder, trying to ease some of the tension so the throbbing pain would subside.

She was silent for a moment. Trying to form words to answer him in truth; after all she knew he was right and he deserved honesty. This was bigger than Chandler or Doyle. They may be the moving blocks that started her downward spiral but they weren't the core reason.

"Dave, I'm not sure I can do this anymore."

"There's nothing wrong with that. This job can be brutal; it's thrown a lot of curve balls into your life." He watched her for a moment, noting the distant look in her eye. "Why did you come back after Doyle?"

"I had to see if I could still do it." A sad smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, as if she were ashamed by her reason.

Rossi flashed a small smile. "You've proved that. So why are you still here?"

Placing the half empty cup on the nightstand, she began picking at her nails; she hated talking about these things. But she owed to Rossi, and to herself. She knew she couldn't keep burying it and acting like nothing was wrong.

"I don't know; because I love this team. We spend our days toeing the line between jaded and a good agent. I mean, we put ourselves into the minds of these horrible people and we're expected to leave it all at the office and go about our lives like normal."

Rossi took both her hands in his. "No one is asking you to act like nothing is wrong. No one is making your pretend to be alright if you're not.

And if you're putting that kind of pressure on yourself then you aren't the woman that I know. You're much stronger than that."

"And what if I'm not?" A hint of anger filled her voice as she spoke. Pulling her hands from his, she stood up, suddenly feeling claustrophobic just sitting there. "What if I'm not that strong anymore? What then?"

"Then no one would think less of you-"

"But you just said I'm stronger than that." She looked him in the eye as she spoke, no longer pushing away her emotions but letting them flood through her like fire; embracing them. "I am asking you, what if I'm not."

"You remember when you told me about Michael and Rome?" Rossi kept his voice even as he spoke, still sitting on the edge of the bed.

His question caught her off guard, pushing up memories she'd rather wish be kept locked away.

Rossi continued, knowing his question didn't need an answer. "You knew with conviction that something was wrong. You knew, in your heart, that it wasn't right. You were willing to fight against authority and jurisdiction for someone you hadn't seen in years."

Emily's voice had lost all passion; it was now soft and meek like a child's. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You have a passion that I've seen only a handful of times, and you could do anything you wanted with it. And yet, you choose to hunt monsters. This isn't just some job you do for the thrill, there's always a reason behind it.

Maybe right now you're not at your strongest, and considering the last year, some recovery time is more than justified. But if you let this go now…you'll never forgive yourself.

You came back after Doyle for more than just to prove that you could. This is what you do Emily. And you're good at it. Don't let some psychopath take that away from you."

Casting her blurry vision to the floor, she let the tears fall silently. She was no closer to figuring out what she was going to do, nor did she feel any less fear of the unknown that lay ahead of her.

But for the first time in a long time, she felt like she didn't have to face it alone.

**Please review! Thanks! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! Don't have much to say, so I won't ramble on! Hope you enjoy the chapter! Still have about the next 4 chapters written so the next one should be up next week. Please review! Enjoy**

**Chapter 6**

_Scars_

The room was dark once again. I sat on the bed, my knees pulled to my chest. In just a few hours it would be a new day, but I wasn't ready to let the old one go.

My mind raced with snapshots of the conversation with Rossi. Maybe I don't have a reason to stick with this job anymore. Maybe this is life's way of telling me to call it quits, and I'm just too stubborn to see it.

There'd been the voice nagging in the back of my head the moment I'd come back to the BAU. There was a part of me that hadn't returned after Doyle. There was a part of me that was buried in the ground under a false gravestone; a part of me that would never fully heal.

And then everything happened with Chandler. New wounds appeared over the old ones; I was broken again before I'd ever fully healed. And part of me feared that if I kept going any longer that I would forever be covered in scars.

But right now the bigger part of me wanted to see this through. No matter how much it hurt, or no matter how scared I was. I had to prove to myself that I could face darkness and push through, even if I was walking blindly.

It might be the worst decision I ever made, or the best thing that I ever did for myself. But sitting there, in the quiet dark, memories and new thoughts flooding into my mind quicker than I could comprehend, I knew I had to win this fight.

* * *

I was awake just as the sun began to filter through the hotel window. JJ was already up and getting ready. The smell of hotel coffee filled my lungs as I stretched the tired muscles of my body; I cursed myself for falling asleep in such a god-awful position.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the previous night's events cascaded into my mind. I wanted the whole night to just be a nightmare, instead of a night plagued by them.

My cheeks flushed at the thought of the whole team witnessing one of my most demeaning moments. I closed my eyes and let out a small grown; I want to go back to sleep.

I heard a soft laugh and opened my eyes. JJ sat on her bed across from me, running a towel through her wet hair.

"Did you get much sleep?"

"You mean after my lovely 'episode' that woke the whole hotel." I sat up and faced her, raising an eyebrow as the sarcasm seeped into my voice.

She smiled. "It wasn't that bad."

I laughed, un-amused. "The whole team was standing at the foot of my bed before I was even fully awake. It had to have been bad."

Her face became serious. "We've all been there, Emily. It's happened to all of us, we all just happened to witness when it happened to you."

I shrugged my shoulders, instantly regretting it as the pain trickled down my arm. I clenched my teeth and hoped that JJ hadn't been watching me too closely.

"I'm gonna go get ready." I could feel her eyes on me but pretended not to notice as I gathered my clothes together. "I'll meet you downstairs in twenty minutes?"

Not waiting for her response, I slipped inside the small bathroom and closed the door behind me. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the door. All I wanted to do was go home.

My whole body seemed to throb with the insistent headache and every time I moved my shoulder a buzzing pain shot down my arm. Even though I hated how they clouded my mind, I seriously wanted some hardcore pain killers.

I looked at my sullen reflection in the mirror. Seemingly permanent dark circles hung under my eyes and my skin looked a few shades paler, which I honestly thought would not have been impossible.

Carefully, I took the baggy sweatshirt over my head, leaving only the white tank top and a dark pink three inch scar. I let my fingers graze over the torn skin.

Three inches deep; torn muscle; slight knick to artery. There was no permanent damage, just lingering pain. I was told I was lucky that it missed my heart; that I was lucky to be alive. I wouldn't call it luck.

He knew what he was doing. He'd made the same cut to his eight previous victims. Knowing it would be painful; that it would be a slow bleed, but they would survive. Survive just long enough for him to torture them more.

I gripped the edge of the sink, suddenly feeling light headed.

Now there was another UnSub, doing the exact same thing. It was bad enough the first time around; the bloody autopsy photos, the young girl's bodies covered in wounds that would never get a chance to heal.

Shaking my head, I turned on the shower as hot as the water could go. Standing in a hotel bathroom reliving things that can't be changed wasn't going to get us any closer to catching this new UnSub.

And the sooner he was caught, the sooner I could find comfort in my own home.

And not to mention, a lovely little bottle of painkillers.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Hey! So I know it has been forever since I have updated this story and I apologize for that. School was pretty intense and other than that my excuse is that life happened, as it often does. _**

**_Trying to start the new year off right by updating! And fingers crossed I will do it in a timely matter now! And actually found a few chapters I already had written! So that is definitely a plus! _**

**_Hope you enjoy reading, and again, I apologize for the long wait! Reviews are more than welcome :) _**

**Chapter 7**

**Too Easy**

Emily did best to ignore the sideways glances and the looks of worry, but every time she turned around another pair of eyes were pouring into her. That morning, she had told them all that she was fine; that it was nothing of concern.

But they all knew it was more than that, but no one dared say anything out loud. And it wasn't as if she were about to broadcast to the entire team what was really going on inside her head.

Rossi had been the only one that didn't seem to be watching her every move, but he also knew more than the others, even if that wasn't much.

She could tell that Hotch too was trying to keep his distance, but she still caught him watching her.

By mid-morning Hotch noticed a slight change in her behavior, that she was becoming tired of it; of hitting dead ends with the case, as well as being scrutinized by the team. And that was something he couldn't blame her for.

"Prentiss, a word please?"

Prentiss just looked at him for a moment; their eyes locked. "Sure."

Hotch nodded and started making his way out of the small precinct, not bothering to turn to see if she was following him.

Stepping outside he only waited a few seconds before she was by his side, pulling her jacket tighter against the slightly crisp morning air.

"I need to know if you're okay with this, with the case."

His forward approach didn't surprise her; in fact she had expected nothing less. Some found his curt demeanor to harsh, but she actually found it somewhat nice. Sure, at times he could come across as insensitive, but she would rather be to the point then beat around the bush.

"I'm fine. Really." Emily kept her voice even and confident.

Hotch was silent for a moment before he spoke in a soft voice, "You know, after Foyet I could barely bring myself to sleep for a while. I uh I was worried that if I closed my eyes long enough that all the pain would come rushing back, the pain of losing Haley."

"Hotch…You don't have too."

"And you don't have to either." Hotch looked her in the eye, the powerful gaze that he so often held, boring into the depths of her soul.

She stood, silent. The reality of his words sinking in. "Don't take me off this case, Hotch. I need to do this." This time her voice was soft; she didn't care if she sounded weak.

Even though they wouldn't even be there if it hadn't been for their work, at that moment they were no longer colleagues, or even friends. They were two broken people finding understanding and comfort in the fact that they were not alone.

"My offer stands just as it did after Doyle. When you have a bad day, when it gets to be too much, you come find me and we'll talk. Deal?"

Emily bit her lip. This was too easy. Suddenly she had hope; hope that things would get better, that just maybe her wounds would heal. That couldn't happen. It was too easy to fall into the comfort and security that he so readily set before her.

He made it sound simple. And from her experience things that sounded that great usually came with a price; she couldn't allow herself to be broken again. The cracks were already showing and she knew that all it would take was one more blow and she would be shattered forever.

"Emily, I won't force you to talk to me. I'm just asking that you come find me, I won't act like a shrink or even your boss, and I'll just be a regular guy trying to help out someone he cares about."

She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ignore the throbbing in the back of her head that seemed to increase. "You make it sound so easy."

"I never said it was."

Emily sighed. "Alright, just don't expect me to tell you everything."

He let a small smile fall on his lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."

She laughed a little; feeling more relaxed in that single moment than she had in weeks. "We should probably get back inside before they send a search party."

"Before we do, I uh I wanted to apologize." His voice was quiet again. "I know I wasn't really there for you as much as I should have been, and I regret not trying harder. With Doyle, and with Chandler; and I won't let that happen now."

Emily just looked at him. "Hotch…" She let her voice trail off, her brow creasing as emotion filled in her eyes.

Hotch looked right back. For a brief moment they knew everything about each other. They shared the torment of being haunted; of being broken. And they were okay with it.

"Guys, Garcia's got something." Morgan stuck his head out of the door and called out to them.

The moment shattered back to reality as quickly as it had come upon them. Hotch continued to hold Emily's gaze as he told Morgan they would be right there.

Morgan looked at the two of them for a second, wondering what the two had been talking about. But he also knew better then to pry, but suspected that it had something to do with Prentiss and the case. Everyone could tell it was tough on her.

Hotch was the first to turn away but before he even took two steps, Emily's voice calling his name stopped him. He turned around to face her once again. Noticing her slightly flushed cheeks, he knew she was trying hard to keep her emotions in check.

She swallowed and licked her lips. "Thank you."

He only smiled and nodded his head, then turned on his heels and went back inside; back into the mode of being her boss; of being stoic and professional.

Taking a moment, she breathed in deep. Although she had no real logical reason, she felt like breaking down. She had to pull herself together. They were in the middle of a case, she couldn't break now.

To most, the short conversation she'd had was just that, a conversation. But to her it was so much more. He'd offered her a way out when she needed it, but he had done it in a way that didn't make her feel like her head would explode.

She breathed deep once more before pulling on the glass door and forcing herself back to the reality before her. And even though her body ached and she longed for sleep, she knew if she let things go now she would never be able to forgive herself.

After all, life was never easy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to those of you who review or put this story on alert! Makes me happy! :) This chapter kind of leaves you hanging so I will post the next one within a week! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 8**

**The Break**

"We got 'em!" Garcia's voice from the computer speakers excitedly filled the room. "Well, at least I think we do. I mean once you hear this stuff, oh man."

Hotch clenched his jaw. "Garcia, just tell us what you got."

"You know how Chandler spent time in foster care when he was twelve. Well I dug up some dirt on then eight year old creeper Owen Hash.

Hash ended up in the system when he was five because he father strangled and killed Hash's mother right in front of him. That sparked the little UnSub in trainings interested and he became fascinated with death.

He and Chandler became inseparable and by the time Chandler was sixteen and Hash was twelve, the two had to be moved to separate homes because the foster parents would find them killing and dissecting stray cats. And again, I ask, why is it always cats?"

Morgan smiled at the computer screen as Garcia gave them an exasperated look. "Okay baby girl, but that's not enough to say that this is our guy."

"I know, and that's why I'm not done yet. Hash works in construction but on everyday a woman was abducted, he either had off or didn't show up. And to add to his now growing list of UnSub traits, he lives thirty miles out of Post Falls in a remote cabin."

"Do you have anything else on him; anything to tie him directly to the murders?" Rossi asked, glancing towards Hotch as he did. They all knew that if they wanted to go after this guy, they needed hard proof.

"That-that's not enough? This guy practically has neon flashing lights that he was made to be a creeper!" Garcia waved her arms to emphasize her point.

"What about something that ties him directly to the victims, Garcia?" JJ said from behind Rossi.

"If there is I'm not-wait! Got it; he was on the construction crew that helped remodel that last victims apartment. Is that enough? Please let it be enough."

Prentiss turned to Hotch. "It at least warrants a visit, right?"

"Reid, JJ; stay here and see what else you can dig up about this guy. Rossi, go with Morgan to his work and Prentiss and I will cover his house."

* * *

The moment we turned onto the country road, my chest tightened. Something didn't feel right. But a gut feeling didn't justify calling for backup, nor would it do any good to ask Hotch if we could wait for Morgan and Rossi.

The only thing it would end up doing is make me look weak and pathetic. What FBI agent couldn't even handle going to question a person of interest in a case just because her stomach was in knots?

Granted, I did have a reason to feel apprehensive about this situation. After all, if Hash was the partner, the partner of the man I killed, and he somehow knew that, then I could be in serious trouble.

But that was why I had a gun at my finger tips and Hotch at my side. He'd been silent the entire fifteen long minutes of the ride and didn't seem to be making any effort of engaging in some sort of conversation.

Maybe he could sense the turmoil running through me. Maybe being silent was his way of being nice and not evading my personal space. And it was kind of nice, not having to worry about the tone of my voice or how often I picked at my nails.

I could just sit there in my own world of worry and both of us could be content. But it was too good to be true. As the old run down cabin came into view, his voice broke through my shrieking thoughts.

"Stay alert. If this is our guy, I don't want to take any chances. First sight of trouble and we call for backup. I don't care if it turns out to be nothing, I'm not going to let a repeat of Chandler happen and endanger any of my agents again."

I stole a glance his way but he didn't return it. He kept his eyes locked forward and his voice lacked all emotion. Maybe I wasn't the only one who had the feeling that things were about to turn ugly.

I couldn't tell if knowing that we shared the mutual feeling made me feel better or worse. But I didn't have time to contemplate it any longer as the SUV came to a stop in front of the cabin.

Stepping out of the car into the afternoon sun, I tightened the grip of the Kevlar vest around my shoulder; the feeling of it tight against my chest somehow bringing a sense of comfort.

Hotch looked my way and gave a nod to signal this was it, not that I needed any direction. I followed his lead, hand apprehensively resting on my holster, as we walked across the dirt path that led to the door.

My eyes turned at every rustle of leaves and every whistle from a bird. I was being paranoid; feeling like a rookie agent, nerves racing at every sound. It was stupid.

I took a breath trying to calm myself. Hotch knocked on the door and called out FBI. We waited for a response. It felt like hours until the sound of gunfire paralyzed me on the spot.

Before I could react, Hotch grabbed the back of my vest by the collar and pulled me to the ground. Luckily my instincts kicked in before I fell completely over and I landed on my knees and quickly crawled behind Hotch as we took shelter behind an old pickup.

"Are you hurt?" Hotch's voice was quick and alert, his gun drawn and eyes searching the surroundings as the onslaught of bullets ceased for a moment.

My senses finally returned as I took a quick assessment of myself and found nothing wrong aside from my heart beating so fast that my chest hurt. "Good. You?"

The handle of the gun felt slippery in my sweaty palm but I gripped it even tighter as I turned to Hotch.

"Just a graze; I'm fine."

I looked at his left arm and saw where a bullet had torn through and a small trickle of blood was running down his shirt sleeve. "Hotch." My voice sounded breathless as my heart rate picked up even more at the sight of him being hurt.

His eyes constantly moved, trying to gauge where the shooter was without making himself too much of a target. "Call Garcia, we need backup."

My fingers fumbled over the numbers on the cell phone as I pressed the speed dial. "Shit. We don't have service."

He didn't seem fazed. Instead I could see his mind working on a plan; if I was going to be stuck with anyone in a gun fight, I was glad it was Hotch. Although part of me really wished it was Morgan with one his ear shattering guns.

Another bullet shot off over my left shoulder. I really wished we had that big gun.

"Owen Hash, my name is Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. I need you to cease fire."

I stared wide eyed at the wilderness in front of us. The way the sun was shining, it made most of my view blurred and shadowed. I couldn't see a damn thing.

We waited for what seemed like an eternity until a voice spoke from somewhere in the distance. "I know the FBI killed my brother. I'm not coming out and you're not leaving until I know who the murderer is."

My blood went cold and the pounding in my shoulder gave way to new pain. I could feel the knife entering me all over again.

Hotch said something to Hash but his words were faded. Everything became slow motion as I looked at Hotch beside me. Blood still seeped from the bullet wound; it was more than just a graze and he knew it.

We had four clips of handguns against what sounded like a machine gun; the afternoon sun streamed down on us and I could already feel the sweat dripping down my back; and having reinforcements within the next few hours was pretty slim.

I holstered my gun and rose to my feet; feeling calm and collected, but also somewhat numb. Hotch yelled at me to get down but I ignored him.

Maybe I felt like I had to do this to justify the lives that I'd taken on the job; maybe I felt like I had to be punished for what I put the team through with Doyle.

"Owen. I'm the one that pulled the trigger."

Maybe I was just stupid.

**Please review! Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

******Hey! Here is another chapter! I'm still working on the next one and with school starting next week, it may be a little while before the next update. Please be patient! Let me know what you think. Enjoy**

**Chapter 9**

_Another Step Closer_

The sun was shining down on them; cascading with its pounding and relentless heat. Sweat dripped down her back. Her heart pounded beneath the confines of the bullet proof vest.

All was silent and still.

She stood in the open; visible to all that surrounded her. Including crosshairs of a gun; including the intense stare of her boss, still crouched down in cover just a few feet from her.

The gun felt heavy in her hand, the metal burning against her skin. It hung loosely at her side; she knew aiming would do her no good; she didn't even have a target. And even though she had two sets of eyes on her, she was blind with knowing where to look.

She licked her lips in nervous anticipation. She made the first move. It was his turn to respond. His move in an intricate game of chess, where one option could take down the king and another could put you in jeopardy of losing all you had.

And so she waited.

It wasn't long before a voice rang out from the shadows of the dense tree line before her. "You took everything from me."

His voice was calm and collected. Two things that did not bring her any comfort; a stable mind was one that was harder to deal with. It meant he was good at chess.

"We can talk about this face to face, Owen."

"We have nothing to talk about. You already admitted to killing him."

She licked her lips again. "I didn't have a choice. I-"

"There is always a choice." This time his voice was angry and hard; he was losing patience and the game had only just begun.

"Owen, I swear to you, if I had another option then I would have taken it."

"You're lying. Just like the rest of them."

Now she was getting somewhere. "Like who?"

"What do you mean who; those other girls." She could tell by his voice that he was getting closer to the edge, an edge that she didn't want him by, because if he went over now, she would be going with him.

"Those girls that you and Ben killed, is that who you're talking about?"

"Shut up! You don't get to call him that; you don't get to call him anything!" His voice cracked with emotion.

And then she saw him. His dark silhouette with the sun behind him; his hand stretched out in front of him, gun in hand and pointed directly at her.

She forced her eyes to lock with his; everything else around her blurred. His features were strong and his eyes were dark blue swirls that were captivating. Ironically she thought that under any other circumstances, she would have found him to be attractive.

But now he was all that stood between her and a bullet. She had faced this situation before; she knew what if felt like to have a barrel in your face, to feel the hot breathe of a suspect breathing down your neck.

This time it was different; she was different.

He slowly started walking towards her; his features sharpening as the light fell on him. He had sounded so on edge and tense, but his appearance gave nothing away; he looked poised.

She heard movement behind her, having almost forgotten that they weren't alone. And apparently, Owen did too. His gaze shifted to the truck; rage visibly building inside him.

Without second guessing herself, she took a step forward; slowly raising her hand in a slight surrender.

It was enough to draw his attention back to her, as well as the aim of his gun. "Easy Owen, I'm not going to do anything."

"You did when you killed Ben. You did something then, didn't you!?"

He moved in closer but she stood her ground, she needed his focus on her; it was their only chance. "I didn't have a choice then. He came at me; I'm telling you the truth. I didn't want to hurt him. You have a choice, Owen. You can lower the gun and walk out of here."

He scoffed and gritted his teeth. "We both know that's not true. We killed women together; they were liars and when you lie, bad things happen. So don't you dare lie to me."

"I'm not saying we're going to have a perfect ending; I just meant that no one has to get hurt."

"Like Ben did, huh? Does taking a life bother you, agent? Does it haunt you? Cause I'm right here, just shoot me and get it over with. You can add another _monster _to your list."

"I won't hurt you Owen. No matter what you do, I won't shoot." She kept her voice calm. The voice at the back of her head telling her that she didn't have to take a shot; Hotch would.

Swiftly, Hash closed the distance between them and before she knew it, he was an arm's length in front of her. Gun outstretched.

"Then take off the vest."

All emotion was gone from his face and voice. He was cold.

She swallowed hard but didn't say anything. All she had to do was keep his focus. Just a little bit longer; it had to work.

"I said, take it off." His teeth gritted together at every word. "Put the gun on the ground and take off the vest, agent."

Without taking her eyes off him, she bent partially over to the ground and laid the gun at her feet. She blinked in the bright sun and licked her lips. "You don't have to do this, Owen."

He took another step closer. "We both know I'm either leaving here in cuffs or in a body bag. If I'm going down, I'm sure as hell bringing you with me."

She clenched her fist, hoping that Hotch would catch her signal. Taking in a ragged breathe, she thought to herself, it was now or never.

Hearing the sound of quick footsteps on gravel behind her, she knew Hotch was making his move. "Prentiss! Now!"

Moving as fast as she could, Prentiss ducked down and grabbed the gun at her feet. Two shots rang out from behind her. But it wasn't enough to take him down.

Hash's heavy boot collided with her shoulder and sent her tumbling over so she was lying on her back.

Even with blood rushing from a bullet hole in his stomach, Hash fired three shots in Hotch's direction.

Emily reached for the gun that had flown out of her grasp when she was knocked backwards. She didn't have time to look back to make sure Hotch was okay.

It had to end now.

**Sorry for another little cliff hanger! But it ended up being a good spot to cut the chapter. Reviews will make me write the next chapter faster ;) **


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